Friday, December 22, 2017

Love and miss you always Mom

True love. I know what true love is. I've seen it. I've lived it and I've felt it. It's what I know of my mother's love. I know that first hand. My mother, our mother, knew how to give true love. She was a master at it. 

Until December 6th, 2017, my mother has been here. And although she wasn't with me in the flesh on every trip or every event or special moment in my life, she was always here to hear the story of it. And I've always loved to tell a story. And she loved my stories. She loved all of our stories. Because she loved us. 

No matter where we went, or what we did, she wanted to hear about it. No matter the destination or the situation, she was curious to know and to hear. She was such a good audience. Any one of us could sit and tell her a tale of happiness or woe and she would listen attentively and make sure you knew you felt her love. 

She was the most faith filled person I've ever known. She had many opportunities to question circumstances in her life. Ninety years of living certainly allows for the chance to have good times and bad. Plenty and want. Joy and sorrow. She had all of that. But she never quit. Not one time. I know she may have wanted to, but she did not. She did not quit. Instead she worked at making life better on bad days. Leaving a burned in memory of a day all of us in her family dreaded, when she showed up like this. 



On that first Christmas after Frank and Nina died she showed up dressed quite weirdly, even for her. But we've never forgotten her valiant attempt to change the day with some token of remembrance. And you know what? We've never forgotten it. We still talk about it. We still cherish the memory of her trying to make us laugh. Laugh at her. And we did. 

Well done Mom. You did it that day when you wore that outfit, because you loved us so much. 

I don't know how God managed to make her the way he did, and then give her to us. Or, give us to her. Her kids and grandkids and great grandkids were the lights of her life. And we knew it. She made sure we knew it.

She was this wonderful, amazing woman. And she was my mother. She was always a phone call away. And now I have to learn to live without her. And I don't yet know how I will do that. For 58 years of my life she has been here. And now she is not. 

But I won't grieve for the rest of my life, because she wouldn't want that. She would expect me....you....all of us, to remember her with so much love and smile when we think of her. And our love for each other. And live. Live well. And love.  

And so my dear sweet mother, I'll never let a day go by that I don't remember you and be grateful for you and miss you. I know you're where you want to be, but learning to live without you will not be easy. I wish it was one thing I could have skipped, like a childhood chore you assigned to me and I somehow got out of. But grief and sadness have found me. It found us all. It's an all too familiar feeling that none of us want to spend much time with. 

I promise we won't let grief take us over. We promise we will love as best as you showed us how. 

We promise. 


You were a gem, unique and wonderful. 

The prayers you prayed will last lifetimes and will continue to change lives. 

You made life better. 

I will love you forever and always. 

I will always be grateful you were mine.